Battle For the Throne
by LadyS.Stark
Summary: This is an AU fic with all the 'what ifs' that came to my mind, starting off in Game of Thrones once they reach King's Landing and proceeding onwards. Some cannon pairings, as well as cannon/ofcs, and possible ooc and mary-sueness. You've been warned.
1. Eddard

The feast celebrating King Robert's return to King's Landing was far too loud and exquisite for Eddard's taste, so he found himself heading outside to the quiet of the gardens as a cool breeze came in off the ocean, which was a blessing in the heat that even existed after the sun had set. He saw he was not alone in slipping away from the revelry, for a young woman sitting on a bench beneath the moonlight. She looked no older than his son Robb, golden hair tied up in a southern style glinting softly in the moonlight as she looked up at the stars shining high above them. Her clothing indicated she was a lady of the court, her small and lithe figure pleasing to the eye.

He cleared his throat politely and gave her a courteous half bow. "May I join you, my lady?"

Blue-gray eyes looked up at him, widening as she recognized who he was. "C-certainly, my lord." She managed, fiddling absently with a purple stone carved in the shape of a unicorn that hung around her neck from a silver chain.

"Thank you." He sat as far from her on the same bench as was polite, noticing the necklace. "You are of House Brax?"

"Yes, my lord." She continued to finger the unicorn, the look in her eyes indicating she expected him to politely excuse himself, as no doubt many a man had after learning she belonged to a family sworn to House Lannister. She showed no reaction when he stayed, his eyes on her pendant, getting the feeling he knew the maker of it and was staying for that reason, if nothing else. She tucked the stone away under her bodice where she usually kept it hidden from prying eyes. "I am Lady Talia Brax."

He averted his eyes when she hid the pendant in her bosom, not looking at her again till she spoke, inclining his head to her. "And I am Lord Eddard Stark, though you were probably already aware of that."

Her small smile was genuine as her eyes met his. "Your name has been the topic amidst the lords and ladies since His Highness set off for the North, so yes I was." She said no more for a long while, eyes flicking up to the sky in the comfortable silence that enveloped them. Music, laughter, and the chatter of many voices drifted out to them all the way from the banquet hall, disturbing their peace. "Do you like the ocean, Lord Stark?"

"It has been many years since I last laid my eyes on the vast expanse of water here, but I believe so." He said, his face giving away nothing of the memories that rose in him at the mention of the sea. He'd lost two very precious women near there, one pleading in her last moments to be taken home back north, while the other had stepped off a cliff after miscarrying what would have been another bastard child.

She rose to her feet smoothly, hands brushing the miniscule wrinkles out of her skirt. "Would you be so kind as to walk with me there then, my lord?"

He considered this for a moment, then stood and extended his arm to her. "It would be my pleasure, Lady Brax."

"Thank you." She smiled, taking his arm and the two of them used the gate by the south wall where the guards were both too drunk with summer wine to even notice the pair pass them by. When they finally reached the sanded beach, she bent and took off her shoes in what could have been considered an unladylike like way, but she did it with such poise it was hard not to admire her. "We have no fear of being spied on here. The waves and strong breeze keep even Varys' birds at bay."

"You knew Jon Arryn." It wasn't a question.

She inclined her head as she looked out over the incoming waves. "He was my only friend in this accursed place. My sister and I were brought here a year ago to be ladies-in-waiting to Her Majesty when she tired of the old ones, and we were miserable until we met him. He fussed over us as if we were his granddaughter, which deflected any suspicions in the court of sharing secrets."

He nodded. That was Jon to the core, who'd been knowledgeable about how things worked at King's Landing long before becoming Hand there. "He always knew what had to be done to protect those who helped him. Did he tell you what he was doing before he died?"

"He'd been to see Robert's bastard children. All of them. He kept saying something about all of them being black of hair, which is only logical considering his whole family has been dark."

"Joffry and his siblings don't have Robert's coloring." Ned observed with a frown.

Her lips curled into an ironic-looking smile. "That bothered Jon as well. He borrowed some tome from the library and began talking in earnest with Stannis in Dragonstone. He told everyone it was because he wanted his son Robert to foster with Stannis, and while that in itself was true enough, they also spoke of the aforementioned children."

Ned pondered what she had said for a long while, deciding at last to trust her. He hadn't been sure, even after seeing the pendant that was undoubtedly Jon Arryn's handywork, but now he was after hearing her insinuate things that could very well get her beheaded. "I am surprised Lysa would agree to let her son go there, she has less love for Stannis than she did for Jon."

"Agree?" Talia scoffed, shaking her head. "She fought Jon at every turn about it, so vehemently that I warned him he might want to drop the subject for a while."

Ned stopped walking and looked down at her. "She became violent?"

"Well..." Talia hesitated a moment, then said: "She made a move towards her knife one night at dinner when he was talking about it. Petyr Baelish leaned over and whispered something to her, then it was like neither of them had ever moved. I am fairly certain they thought no one had seen that pass between them, and if they knew otherwise I would be dead."

"That's quite the bold statement."

Talia held his gaze unwaveringly. "I know what I saw Lord Stark, and what I saw was a fierce mother bear who felt her cub was in danger. Even I am not fool enough to underestimate such primal instincts."

"Lysa may not have liked the idea of her son going to foster with Stannis, but surely she would not think he'd harm the boy?" Ned knew Catelyn would not have liked where this conversation was leading since she liked to think the best of her sister, but Ned had remained skeptical about the credibility of Lysa's claims, and now Petyr's name only cemented his suspicions.

Talia sighed softly. "With a man like Baelish whispering in your ear, it's hard to say. He's known for his silver tongue and the ability to get what he wants, Lord Stark. Very few can resist him."

Ned could believe that all too well, turning their steps back towards the castle. It was getting late and soon the feasting would be over, so he thought it wise that they shouldn't be missing when this happened. "You have given me a lot to think on, my lady." He paused his stride long enough for her to get her shoes back on as they neared the end of the beach. "Do you think House Lannister would be capable of murder?"

"They have made no qualms killing enemies before, so I would have to say yes. But we are all capable of murder in one way or another, my lord." She gave him a grim smile as they resumed their walk, the two guards at the gate passed out now from all the wine they'd consumed. Once just outside the banquet hall, she released his arm and gave him a curtsey. "Thank you for the lovely walk, Lord Stark."

"The pleasure was all mine, Lady Brax." He replied with a formal half bow. He watched her go inside, finding himself wishing their conversation could have lasted longer, as unpleasant as the topics had been. Still, he would have to be careful about how their relationship was seen, as well as how it panned out between them in private. He already had disgraced his lady wife once with a bastard and he had no wish to do so ever again. He was a northerner after all, and his was the older way. He would never again let his passions rule him as he'd done in his youth, a mistake that had cost him dearly. His jaw tightened as he pushed away the returning memories, going into the hall and rejoining the merriment as best he could.

The feast ended shortly thereafter and he put his arms around his drowsy children, guiding them back to their rooms, made sure they were safe and sound inside, and then walked slowly to his own. He shut the door firmly behind him, stripping off his clothing piece by piece till he was wearing nothing, pulling back the covers on his bed and laying on the mattress. He slept fitfully, a familiar pair of violet eyes haunting his dreams as they had many times before, but his lady wife was not with him to take solace in this time, and soon enough he got out of bed and threw on some light weight cotton clothes just to get away from the torment. Once they were secured on his body, he stepped out and walked silently down the halls of the castle, having no real destination in mind.


	2. Talia

Queen Cersei looked as cold and aloof as she always did after celebrations at which King Robert was seen openly flirting with whores, so it was nothing new to Talia or her sister Emily, but they were still cautious since she seemed more angry than usual. They worked as quickly as they could getting her out of her gown and into the chemise she slept in, undoing her hair from it's latest style and combing it till it shone in soft waves. She sent them away when they were done and her twin brother asked for an audience with her, and they were only too happy to obey. Talia's eyes met Jaime's, and for a brief moment she thought he looked like a caged animal who wasn't sure whether to be docile or to attack, and then his face was once more an unreadable mask.

She thought about that all the way to Emily's room, which was around the same size as Talia's, only there was no stone wall to be seen save near the mirror, for Emily's artwork adorned every other section but that one. Talia admired her sister's talent that exceeded her own and was a bit jealous of it, just as Emily was envious of Talia's better singing voice, so they balanced each other out. Talia had been nearly a year old when Emily had been born, so they had been close their whole lives, most mistaking them for twins at first sight. They did look a lot alike in features, but Talia had her father's smile and her mother's hair, while Emily had her father's hair and everything else was their mother's. Pushing all those thoughts away, Talia told her sister all about her conversation with the new Hand, and her impressions of the grave man who was a northerner to the core.

"You're sure he can be trusted?" Emily's brow creased, looking a tad uncertain.

"Yes." Talia's hushed tone was resolute, taking her sister's hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. She understood why Emily was worried, it was hard to know who to believe in King's Landing with all the gilded tongues that knew exactly what to say. But from what Talia had seen of Eddard, he was just like his foster father.

Emily's hand tightened around hers, taking comfort in it. "Very well, I will trust in your judgement. It has never led us astray before."

"Thank you, little sister. Now for the love of the seven faces of god, get some sleep." Talia stood and kissed Emily's brow affectionately.

"I will." Emily promised with a wry smile. "I love you, Talia."

"And I love you, Emily. Sleep well." She stepped out, shutting the door quietly behind her as she caught sight of Eddard Stark standing there in the hallway, looking rather sheepish at being caught eavesdropping. She pulled him out of sight into a small cove where they wouldn't be immediately seen if someone just glanced their way. She and Jon had spoke in this little spot many a time. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough to know you trust me." Eddard's eyes bored into hers. "My only question is why?"

Talia's lips twitched as she drew the unicorn from it's hiding spot in her bosom and cradled it in a hand, missing Jon afresh. If she had a son, she would name him after that beloved man. "The same reason you trust me, I reckon."

Eddard's face was a stoic mask, but she had been around northern men long enough to see the look in his eyes that told her she was right. "I never said I trusted you, Talia."

"No," she mused with a hint of a smile, "but you don't have to any more than I do. Get some sleep, Lord Stark. Tomorrow's going to be long enough without lack of rest."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but decided not to and the openness in him vanished. "You as well, Lady Brax." He gave her a half bow, then disappeared down a hall.

Talia's heart ached, knowing there was nothing she could do for him at the moment. She walked to her room, slipping inside and shutting the door behind her. She stripped down to the shift she usually slept in, slowly undoing her hair from it's pinned style, and brushing out all the kinks. By the time this was finished, her eyes felt heavy and she yawned, sliding into bed.

* * *

><p>Morning rays of light seeped into her window, causing her to wake from her dreams of happier days as a child. She sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She yawned as her feet slid to the cool stone floor, the castle quiet all around her. This was her favorite time of day, feeling the beginning of sunshine that was not too hot or cold, promising that if you looked for it, you could find something good in your day. Those things were getting harder and harder to find, Talia noticed. Winter was indeed coming, though most southerners denied this and would continue to do so until it was actually upon them. She washed her face with water as she thought of this, the last vestiges of her grogginess disappearing as she dabbed away the liquid. She picked out a gown which would bring out her eyes, just finishing up the ties on the bodice when the bell in her room rang, telling her that Cersei was awake and wanted to be attended.<p>

She rushed there, meeting her sister halfway in the same state of ready for the day, and yet not, their long hair as of yet unbound. They entered the Queen's chambers and bowed to her, ignoring her quipped comments about their improper hair, helping her get herself beautiful. When she was satisfied enough to excuse them, they retreated as hastily as was polite to Emily's room, which was closer than Talia's. There, with hushed giggles they pinned each other's hair into lovely fashions of the south, making sure to sober up before heading out to break their fast. She was not surprised to see the Starks already awake and sitting at the table, a respectful ways down the table from Cersei and her children. The king of course was no doubt still in bed, as he usually was after such revelry, and would most likely not be seen till mid-day.

Jaime joined them as he usually did, dark circles under his eyes that no one commented on, nor did anyone seem to notice that he barely touched his food. When his green eyes met Talia's blue ones, his lips twitched as if he were saying: "Observant little girl, aren't you?" Talia knew better than to look at him after that, letting her eyes wander to Eddard and his children, then her sister beside her, and lastly Ser Barristan who stood at the end of the dinning hall as he always did, their silent protector. Nowhere in all the Seven Kingdoms could you find a more loyal and honest man to be Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, at least not in the opinion of many in King's Landing. She had to resist smiling at the memory of her sister Emily's crush on the knight when they'd first arrived, which Talia had promised to never speak of to anyone.

Emily had done a good job not making it obvious, because of course all Kingsguards take a vow to not have a wife or father children, and therefore nothing could come of her infatuation with the elderly warrior. Kingsguards were not normally known to take lovers, for the risk of breaking their oaths was too great with such actions, except perhaps with other men—which was rumored to happen in the brotherhood—, so women always ended up pining for naught no matter what the circumstance. Talia felt bad for her sister's sake, though she knew Emily would find someone else to fawn over eventually. There were plenty of younger, available men taking their places in the world, though Talia could not honestly say any of them would ever be as bold as Ser Barristan was known to be.

After they had eaten their fill, Talia and Emily rose with the Queen, who invited Sansa—the eldest Stark girl—to join them in the sitting room, an offer that was accepted with great enthusiasm. Walking the short distance to the cool, mostly shaded area where comfortable seats, instruments, and artistic materials had been set up for the pleasure of the ruling monarchs' wives and all those they wished to join them. Songs, music, and some needlework entertained them until it was time for lunch, which was brought to them as it always was and they partook of it out on the veranda, the sunlight pleasantly warm at this time of day. Once refreshed, they returned to the cool room and resumed their needlework. A little later, they went for a walk through the gardens, returning greetings to all they passed along the way.

Upon returning to the sitting room, Talia worked on a painting as Emily told a story, the two elements weaving together perfectly as often happened. Sansa looked truly enthralled, which was a nice change as opposed to Cersei's polite, detached air whenever it came to displaying of talents that the Seven had blessed other people with, and yet showing what you were really feeling was a dangerous thing down in the south, especially in King's Landing. The sun set as dinner time arrived, and they all adjourned to the great hall which was now teeming with the members of the court. A minstrel played ballads, there was lively talk all around the long tables, and everyone seemed in excellent spirits. Talia exchanged a glance with Emily, a silent agreement passing between them that this good mood would not last long at all. It never did.


	3. Jon

A light snow storm had just passed through Winterfell, making the task of tracking deer with Robb harder since the footprints of their prey had been covered over, though it was not impossible for such experienced hunters as them. He didn't mind the extra work, it was nice to be out in the woods, away from Lady Catelyn and her cold stares in his direction. They'd increased tenfold since his lord father Eddard had left with King Robert, and they did get to him as much as he didn't like to admit, even to himself. He knew that there would never be love for him with the woman, but she'd never displayed much courtesy towards him either, not that he blamed her. At least being a bastard meant you really knew what people thought about you, not having to question whatever someone said or did.

"Robb?"

"Yes, Jon?"

"Do you think that Eryn Karstark would agree to me marrying his niece?"

"Rosalynd?" Robb looked like he was trying not to smile when Jon nodded. "I think as long as you asked nicely that he would say yes. In fact, he's probably wondering why you haven't already done so, with the way you and Rosalynd have been spending a lot of time together." He smiled then at his half brother, slyly.

Jon felt his cheeks grow hot. "It's not like that."

Robb chuckled lightly. "Everyone in Winterfell can vouch for you two, you have nothing to fear about accusations concerning your desire of marriage."

"I wish I could believe I would be that lucky." Jon muttered darkly, groaning softly. "Gods, what am I thinking, Robb? You have a better chance of winning her hand than I ever will."

"Maybe, but I have no interest in marrying her, she is like a sister to me." Robb pointed out matter-of-factually, stopping and making his half brother face him fully, hands on his arms. "Do you love her, Jon?"

Jon swallowed the lump in his throat, his heart hammering in his chest. "More than any other girl in all the north."

"Then fight for her. Don't let the thought of what people might say or think convince you that she'd be better off without you. I can promise you she will not. You both will be miserable for the rest of your lives if you don't take this chance. And if you need to run away south with her just so you two can be together, then do it."

"No, no running." Jon said firmly, shaking his head. "If I cannot have her honorably, then I will not have her at all. I could never take her away from her family like that, even though I know she'd come willingly." His heart convulsed at the very thought, for he knew how close Rosalynd was with her uncle, who was her ward since she was small. He couldn't break her heart like that, or Eryn's, who treated him as if he were a true-born son of Lord Stark. It was unfathomable to him.

Robb smiled, squeezing Jon's arms before releasing them. "I had a feeling you would say that. Come, let us finish our task out here, and then you can approach Eryn Karstark about Rosalynd."

Jon nodded, unable to say a word. He felt so grateful to Robb, and he sensed his half brother knew it. They found the elusive deer much later and killing two sick ones in the herd, taking the beasts home to Winterfell, their direwolves trotting ahead of them. At the courtyard, he parted from Robb after his old buck was taken from him by one of the kitchen staff, his feet taking him unerringly to the small, but lovely building that had served as Rosalynd's home ever since he could remember. Gathering his courage, he knocked.

The door opened to reveal Eryn, a man in his late forties, his black hair streaked with more white than Jon's lord father's. "Jon, what a pleasant surprise. Rosalynd just went up to market, so she should be back soon if you'd like to come in and wait for her."

"Actually ser, I'm here to see you."

If Eryn was taken back by this, he didn't show it. "Ah, well then, come on in." He stepped aside to let Jon in, and shut the door once Jon had complied. He led the way down the halls to a sitting room and lowered himself slowly into a chair.

Jon waited until Eryn was situated before taking a chair himself. "Ser, I..." He swallowed another lump in his throat as Eryn looked at him with calm expectancy. Taking a deep breath to insure his voice did not shake, he continued: "I'm nearly a man now, and I love your niece with all my heart. I should like to ask you for her hand in marriage."

"I will give you my blessing, on one condition: If Rosalynd says yes." Eryn folded his hands together, a smile forming on his lips. "And since I know for a surety that she loves you as much as you love her, you and I will soon enough be family."

Jon could have kissed him, but since that would have been most inappropriate, he settled for smiling. "Thank you, ser." He wished he'd done this sooner, so that his father and siblings could have been present for the wedding, albeit it didn't hurt to send an invitation in hopes that everyone at King's Landing might be able to leave long enough to participate in the nuptials.

Eryn smiled widely, eyes sparkling. "You didn't think I'd say no, did you?"

"Well... I wasn't sure, ser. I am a bastard, after all."

"Bah, a lot of true born children are more bastard than you will ever be, Jon Snow. You have a good heart, and that my dear boy is all that matters." Eryn noticed Jon's lips twitching and guessed what he was thinking. "And yes, Rosalynd got her attitude from me. I suppose that is what happens when a child grows up with you."

Jon nodded, but before he could think of anything to say, the door opened and he heard familiar footsteps coming down the hall after it closed again.

Rosalynd appeared, Ghost as tight to her side as if she were Jon himself. "I wondered why Ghost was sitting outside the door without you."

"I have a habit of telling him to stay outside, as he makes most people uneasy." Jon replied, smiling a little.

"Direwolves are fearsome beasts, but that does not make them mindless killers." Eryn observed as he stood, taking the purchases from Rosalynd and carrying them into the other room.

"I like your uncle very much." Jon announced as he stood.

Rosalynd laughed, coming over and taking Jon's hand in hers. "He feels the same about you, you know." She petted Ghost when he silently licked her free hand with a rough tongue.

Both she and Jon had been surprised that his direwolf treated her like she was his master too, but she had been there for some of his puppy days, and was one of the few that didn't have fear towards him or his siblings. Jon also suspected that Ghost had accepted her in such a manner due to the fact that he could sense Jon's love for her. _Speaking of which... _"Rosalynd..."

"Yes, Jon?" She encouraged, squeezing his hand gently.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

The two of them were too happy to say anything for a long while, merely holding each other's hands as Ghost sat on his haunches beside them, a quite white shape on the stone floor. The smells of whatever Eryn was cooking wafted into the sitting room, promising delicious food if you were patient enough to wait for it. Jon didn't want to impose, but it seemed like he'd be staying even if he protested, so he let Rosalynd tug him into a chair, looking at her as she sat in the one beside him. Ghost moved quietly to lay between their chairs, head resting on his paws as his blood-red eyes half closed.

"I wish I had a more noble name to give you." Jon found himself saying aloud with a sigh.

Rosalynd looked up at him, her green eyes meeting his grey. "All I want is you Jon, not some fancy name. If I had ambitions to have a high-born name, you and I would still be friends, but little else."

Jon had to smile a bit. "Oh I don't know, I might have been able to convince you to give up those ambitions for me."

"You might have." Rosalynd conceded, nudging him gently with a smile of her own. "But you don't have to because I'm yours."

"And I am yours." Jon leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. He smiled when she blushed prettily, his hand twining more firmly with hers. He caught the sound of singing from the other room and raised his brows. "What is your uncle singing?"

Rosalynd chuckled. "From the melody, I think it's the song about Bran the Builder. He's rather fond of that one. Or it could be that silly love ballad he _should _be singing to Lyanna Glover."

Jon couldn't resist smirking a little. "He still in denial that he loves her?"

"Very much so." Rosalynd confirmed with a roll of her eyes. "We shall have to think of a way to fix that."

"We will, my love." Jon promised, smirking more at the impish look in her green eyes. Gods, he loved this woman.


	4. Bran

Bran had been enraptured with King's Landing ever since their arrival, following Ser Barristan around like a cub follows it's mother, asking him all sorts of questions about being a knight. Though assured by Ser Barristan that it was alright, Eddard had cautioned Bran to be careful about the questions he asked, and told him to stay as much out of the knight's way as possible. This resulted in Bran following behind Ser Barristan, chattering away with him as if he were his grandfather. Bran had never met either of his grandfathers, the one dead at the hand of the Mad King, the other too ill to leave Riverrun. And since Ser Barristan didn't have any descendants, he was the perfect substitute in Bran's mind.

When he wasn't spending time with the elderly knight, he was either with Arya for her "dancing" lessons, hiding high in the redwoods so he wouldn't have to spend time with Sansa who had become even less fun to be around than usual, or with one or both of the Brax sisters. Rarely were they seen apart, but there were moments long and short that they would be, and Bran had gotten to know both of them very well in the short time they'd been there. Emily was a marvelous story-teller—better than old Nan in his opinion—, and Talia could paint every scene so breath-takingly it felt like you were there in the painting. Their personalities were very similar, yet as different as he and all of his siblings were, and he liked them both very much. He knew his lord father liked them too, despite the fact that Eddard didn't show any hint that he did, that was just his father's way of protecting them.

This particular evening, Bran wandered the halls with Talia, holding her hand. Her sister Emily had gotten permission to journey to Hornvale to help their father care for their ailing mother, and since the queen could not be without both of her companions, Talia had volunteered to be the one to stay. Bran knew that she missed her sister, so he'd kept to her side as often as he could to help cheer her up. As they walked, he told her all about the towers in Winterfell that had long been deserted and how he'd climb up there to feed the crows corn. He admitted he hadn't gotten around to doing that before they'd left, too busy saying his good-byes to everyone, and how bad he felt about leaving his crow friends without giving them their last kernels of corn.

"Crows are clever creatures." Talia said kindly when he finished, squeezing his hand. "I am sure they knew that you wanted to say good-bye. Tell me more about this godswood you mentioned, please."

"Certainly." Bran more than happily told her every detail about it that he could recall, loving how she never asked more than the occasional question when she wanted clarification on some particular. She listened with such rapt attention that he never had to repeat himself, and he could hardly wait to see his home incorporate itself into her paintings. "There are no heart trees south of the Neck except on the Isle of Faces, and I think it's better for it. No tree should look like it has hands for leaves."

Talia looked at her free hand, as if contemplating how it would look growing on the limbs of trees instead of being at the end of her arms. "Perhaps they think that humans shouldn't have just two limbs and legs instead of roots."

Bran blinked, then laughed softly. Talia said the oddest, yet most insightful things sometimes. It was one of the reasons he liked her so much, she wasn't at all your ordinary court lady when you were in private with her. She teased him like Jon and Robb, played hide and seek with him and Arya, and would speak with him about anything. Emily was a lot like her elder sister, and Bran missed her very much. Not as much as Talia perhaps, but he came close. "I never thought of that. Have you ever been to the Isle of Faces?"

"No, but my sister and I passed fairly close to it by the Goldroad on our way here from Hornvale. It would have been maybe a day's journey or so out of the way, but as curious as Emily and I were, we had an escort we couldn't get away from, and keeping the queen waiting is not usually a good idea. Besides, we are of the Faith. We would have been outsiders."

"I don't think the old gods would have minded, it's the new ones that have all the rules. Or that's what my father tells my mother when he thinks my siblings and I can't hear."

Talia laughed, ruffing up his hair. "You're all very mischievous, aren't you?"

"Something like that." Bran grinned. "Can we see the dragon skulls in the dungeon?"

"I see no reason why not."

So with exchanged grins, they headed down to the dungeon. The skulls of the dragons went from being massive and terrifying in their amazingness, to small and pathetic-looking things that were barely worth mentioning. Bran remembered Maester Luwin saying that he suspected the diminishing in size was due to the fact that the dragons had been kept inside, and not taken outside where they could be wild and free. He thought it was sad someone would want to keep such a great beast from it's destiny. He would never do that to Summer, who he took out to the godswood here every day if he could. Arya did the same for Nymeria, and even Sansa could be seen walking about with Lady through the shaded paths.

His thoughts were interrupted by seeing the gleaming skulls down in the dungeon as they descended down the steps, light from the torches reflecting off the fossils that appeared to have been polished in a way that would make them shine forever. It was a shame to see such magestic things hidden away where no one could appreciate them unless they knew where they were being kept, which was pretty much everyone at the castle. "I wonder what they would have looked like when they were alive." He murmured softly when they'd reached the dirt floor of the dungeon, sitting beside Talia on the bottom most step. He watched as Talia got some parchment out of her pocket and started sketching with graphite, looking up now and then at the skulls for a reference point. When she was finished, there was a rough sketch of a fearsome creature with wings that blocked out the sunlight and much of the sky as well, hovering over what King's Landing would have looked like when Aegon conquered it centuries ago.

"Probably something like that." Talia said quietly. "Though I have never seen a dragon to tell you for certain. They were killed off a long time ago, or so the stories say."

"But you don't think they're entirely true."

Talia chuckled, indicating he was right. "Dragons were supposed to be cunning creatures, I refuse to believe they would have let themselves be hunted into extinction. No Bran, there are dragons out there somewhere... they are merely hiding till the time is right for them to rise out of the shadows."

Bran looked back at the biggest skull, the teeth of which were bigger than any man was tall, save if that man were a Giant. "I hope so. I really want to see a dragon."

"So do I. And who knows? Perhaps we will." Talia shrugged with a smile.

A comfortable silence fell over the two friends, Talia tucking the sketch in her pocket to use for a painting at a later time, and Bran leaning slightly against her in a comfortable way. They sat like that for what felt like hours till it was dinner time, slowly rising to their feet and heading back up the steps. They nearly collided with Jaime Lannister, who was headed down. His lips pulled back into an unpleasant sneer at them, eyes narrowed slightly.

"What are you two doing down here?" He demanded.

"Admiring the dragon skulls, of course. Now if you will kindly excuse us, Ser Jaime, we would like to not be late for dinner." Talia's voice was calm, but Bran could feel she was as taught as a bowstring because he held her hand.

Jaime shrugged, suddenly looking bored as he moved aside. "As you will, Lady Brax. Just remember what house you have sworn your loyalties to."

Talia's smile was as cold as ice. "And you ought to remember that the Starks will soon be your inlaws, Ser Jaime. I do not think your lord father has forgotten." She all but pushed Bran up the stairs ahead of her, not letting the Lannister get in another word edgewise. Soon they were amongst the others in the dinning hall, and she left him with his father and siblings at their end of the table, parting from him there and walking up to sit in her usual place not too far from the queen.

"Are you well, Bran?" Eddard asked in concern, clearly knowing something was amiss.

"Yes, Father. I do not know if the same can be said of Talia. We ran into Ser Jaime on the way back up from the dungeon, and..."

"And?"

"I think he threatened her." Bran whispered. Keeping his voice low amongst the loud talk and laughter at the table, he told his father of the encounter.

Eddard glanced at their mutual friend, who appeared to be in a deep discussion with the young princess Myrcella. "From what you just said, I doubt we need to worry too much. I don't wish to frighten you Bran, but King's Landing is not a safe place and Talia has been here for much longer than us. I would venture to say she can handle herself." Yet even as he spoke, Bran heard the hints of uncertanty in his voice and that was enough for him to silently vow to make sure his friend was not harmed.


	5. Daenerys

Was it normal to feel so conflicted? Daenerys wondered as she was prepared for her wedding to the mighty Khal Drogo. She was being sold, if looked at plainly, but she kept trying to tell herself it was for a greater cause. Her brother Viserys needed the ten thousand warriors Drogo had promised him in return for her hand, and the golden crown that would come with it would certainly help too. A king coming back to his kingdom should have something to adorn his head, everyone was agreed on this, and yet Dany still had her doubts. _Even if given these Dothraki warriors, will my brother be able to lead them across the sea to reclaim what is ours? He talks much, but acts little and is as proud as he is bitter these days. I hardly recognize the boy he used to be. I wish he would come back, but I fear he may be long gone, just like our mother..._

Sighing, her eyes wandered across the room before settling on the red-headed woman only known as Halyn, who was standing in a corner of the room. She wore the clothing normally seen on a male Dothraki warrior, which consisted of a painted vest over her breasts that she bore without the smallest hint of shame, a pair of pants covering her nether regions, and curiously-wrought leather boots that she'd told Dany were worn by the nomads of the Red Waste who were rarely seen outside of the trading posts in Vaes Dothrak once a moon turn. In spite of her eccentric choice in garb, Halyn had proved a strong fighter when Ser Jorah himself had tested her skills in combat. He said later he hadn't had such a challenge since leaving Bear Island, and then had gone silent and sad.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she cleared her throat. "Halyn, would you come here, please?"

"What is it you wish of me, princess?" The red-headed warrior asked, kneeling beside Dany.

"I know Magister Illyrio bought you to protect me till I wed, but I feel that I will have need of you even after. Will you serve me?"

Halyn's vibrant green eyes never faltered as she replied: "As far as I see it, I am yours to command whether Illyrio wishes it or not. But yes, I shall serve you. All that I am capable of and possess are ours, princess." She made a fist over her heart, a gesture which was a salute or sign of respect in most customs of the slaves here.

Dany sighed in relief. "I am glad. I do not know how I would manage in the _khalasar_ without a familiar face that I can trust."

"Can you trust me, princess?" Halyn almost sounded amused, her lips twitching as if she wanted to smile.

Dany considered her for a long moment, then smiled. "Yes."

"Then you will not find the _khalasar_ dificult." Halyn smiled at last in return, standing up. "Between myself and the handmaids that have been purchased for you as well, you will adapt quickly."

"Quickly enough to get my brother his army?"

Halyn rose an elegant brow. "You are viewed as a gift, princess. Yes, the khal will give his own gifts to Viserys, but in his own time and not before. Whether it is soon or not, even the wisest cannot say."

Dany chewed at her bottom lip, knowing Halyn spoke the truth. "Can I influence the khal for it to be sooner?"

"Perhaps, if you make him happy."

"How does one make a horselord happy?"

"A young woman named Doreah has been assigned to teach you that, princess."

"But I asked you."

Halyn made a soft sound that might have been a sigh or a snort, Dany wasn't sure which. "Dothraki are not like ordinary men who are simply pleased by the spreading of legs and wet sexes to slip their manhoods into. Oh for one night, perhaps even a week it will do, but the fact of the matter remains that they can get that from any woman any where in Essos, willing or no. You must show that you are blood of the dragon, prove that you are more than all those women they can mount whenever it pleases them, and most importantly of all you cannot show fear or flinch from any task presented to you. The Dothraki despise the weak and those that cower, while they respect those that stand their ground and are fierce." She paused, tilting her head to one side as if considering something. "And while I am no stranger to bodily pleasure princess, Doreah can teach you more about that aspect than I. Trust her in this and what I have said, and your Khal will love you as furiously as he loves his red stallion."

Dany could think of nothing more to say, for Halyn's council was as good as it was sound. Blunt as always, the red headed warrior had left Dany without questions and many thoughts. She nodded her thanks, then her brother came in. He looked resplendant in the new tunic Magister Illyrio had given him, and for once he was actually smiling. "Viserys." She held her hands out to him.

"Sweet sister." He returned, taking her hands with his and giving them a squeeze as he looked her over. "You are beautiful. Come, it is time for you to wed."

"Yes." Dany resolutely pushed her shoulders back and smiled for her brother. "It is time."

* * *

><p>"He was gentle." Were the first words out of Dany's mouth when she reunited with Halyn the morning after her first ride with Drogo. Her sex still ached from the love-making that had followed, but it was more good than bad, and she found herself wanting more despite the pain.<p>

"And this surprises you, khaleesi?" Halyn called Dany by her new title, raising a dark brow.

"I thought the Dothraki were... rougher."

Halyn shrugged. "They can be, yes. It is no secret the men can be violent in couplings, but I had a feeling your khal would spare you that at least on the first night, knowing you were a maiden still."

Dany blushed faintly under her silver hair. "I have asked Doreah to stay for supper in my tent tonight, to prepare for when he needs to be... you know."

Halyn smirked. "A wise decision, khaleesi."

"What is?" Ser Jorah asked as he joined them, wearing a dark green tunic with a black bear over his Westerosi armor.

"Halyn was just approving of my asking Doreah to have supper with me." Dany explained, knowing she didn't have to go into more details with the knight.

He nodded. "She is a kind girl from what I have heard tell, I think you will enjoy her company, khaleesi."

There was silence for a long while as they rode, then the _khalasar_ stopped and made camp for the night. It was a rhythm Dany thought she could get used to, even if it was strange. _These are my people now, their ways are my ways._ She greeted her handmaids kindly, though she was sore from riding all day. They were all going through the same things, there was no reason to be unpleasant. She sat down at dinner with Doreah, a blond Lysene girl with blue eyes, and they talked all through the meal of things that made Dany's cheeks red. When they were finished, Doreah retired to her tent and Dany waited for her new husband. When he came in, she stood, remembering what Halyn had said the day of her wedding. _I will show him that I am blood of the dragon, and that I am the only one for him._ She thought in determination as she let her dress slide from her body.

* * *

><p>In the morning, she lay in his strong arms, contented. She didn't want to ever move, though the <em>khalasar<em> would be breaking camp the moment their khal emerged from his tent. In sleep, Drogo's normally stern face looked soft, lacking the fierceness that was usually present, and Dany knew this was a rare moment. She traced patterns on his chest absently, smiling when his eyes fluttered open to meet hers. He gave her a returning smile, hands caressing her till she was wet for him again. Their coupling was over as quickly as it had began, their pleasure almost instantaneous. She sighed as they rose from the animal skins, giggling when he swatted her butt teasingly. She pushed him in reply, selecting some Dothraki garb instead of her fragile, expensive clothes from Pentos. She wanted to keep them nice for special occasions, and Drogo looked pleased when he saw what she was wearing, so that settled her every day attire problem.

She mounted her silver with a little less difficulty than the day before, trying to keep back the giddy expression on her face when Drogo beckoned for her to ride beside him. She did just that, catching Halyn's eyes as the woman came beside her on her horse. Leaning over, she whispered: "Is he happy?"

"Only you can answer that, khaleesi." Halyn replied mischievously, winking.

Dany laughed softly, having somewhat expected that. Halyn never told you what you could discover for yourself. "He's getting that way... and so am I."

Halyn smiled. "And that is the most important thing of all."

"Why's that?"

"The Dothraki have a saying that roughly translates to: 'When the moon is happy, so are the sun and stars'. Basically it means one always effects the other, and that is how it has always been in life, no matter what you speak of."

Dany nodded thoughtfully, considering all that her female guardian had said as they rode through the Dothraki Sea.


End file.
